I went to attend a wedding in Las Vegas over the weekend of Friday, September 14 - Sunday, September 16, 2001... so, the pics.  

Believe it or not, baldie made me wear a bow tie.  I'm already in a penguin suit for cryin' out loud.	Before you knew it (ahem) the ceremony starts and the chick walked in with her pop*.	He loves her, she loves him, trade shiny jewelry, a plane flies overhead (again)....
... and call it a wrap.  (Warning from the Surgeon General:  Marriage causes red-eye.)	Waiting for some left-handed dork to finish signing the book with a Frank-brand pen (yea!)	Dinner.  For a duck, it amounted to a plate of croutons.  (Promo Frank pens were handed out).
Cutting the cake.  Sadly, no, there was no stuffing of faces, so no picture was taken.  Cope.	And of course, my picture with the married chick (wings off, she's taken, I was assured...)	The married chick throwing some flowers and a gaggle of grabby babes.  (I don't get it**.)

^* In what may appear an archaic reference to you, "pop" in this case refers to a familiar or friendly term for one's father, and not a type of soda.

^** I would of course mention there are many things I don't understand of the human experience, but then again, I'm not a big fan of having foliage thrown at me, and worse yet, actually wanting it to hit me.  But it seems these women were all about it.  Odd, indeed.  Good thing I had enough croutons to get me through all the silliness.  (And yes, I do eat with utensils -- what did you expect?)